


Closer

by ALCzysz17



Series: Jonsa Kink Week Entries [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Jon and Sansa do the dirty with an audience, Jonsa Kink Week, POV Sansa, Political Marriage, Public Bedding Kink, Public Sex, To save Jon's life, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, jonsa, public bedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 11:57:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13546854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALCzysz17/pseuds/ALCzysz17
Summary: King Robert Baratheon has found out who Jon Snow's father and mother truly are. Ned fears for his nephew and so a compromise was settled between the former best friends. Jon is to marry Sansa Stark and take the Stark family name. Unfortunately, only finding out they are not siblings only a month earlier, a public bedding ceremony is proclaimed to make sure the marriage is consummated.Sansa didn’t know what was worse, being wed to a man she once known as brother on her name day, or having her maidenhead taken by a man she once known as brother in front of an audience.*Public Bedding Kink





	Closer

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to do something like this and with this challenge popping up on my dash (tumblr) I couldn't help but give it a go! Hopefully I'll be able to participate with the rest of the challenges, but time is in short comings with school and work. *Fingers Crossed*
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!! ^_~

 

Sansa found it hard to believe her ears when father came to sit them down in his solar to tell them the truth; the truth about Jon. Mother was sitting in the corner, staring hard at the wall with a blank expression on her face. She refused to look at father.

Robb sat beside Sansa then Arya, Bran and little Rickon. Jon was no where to be found. She watched as Ned stood tall and explained Robert’s Rebellion to them as though they had not heard of the battle numerous times before, but this time there was an additional ending to his story. Sansa had never seen her father look so grim, there was a paleness to his skin as he gazed upon them equally.

Then he told them the truth.

Jon Snow was not their bastard, half-brother, but their cousin, bore from a union between Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen. Sansa glanced among her siblings to see slack-jawed shock and confusion in their faces. They were explained about trying to keep Jon safe from King Robert, but that it was in vain.

Robert Baratheon found out who Jon Snow was, and he was coming for him.

Sansa had never been particularly close with Jon, if nothing else they were barely acquaintances rather than siblings, but even she feared for him. King Robert would be there in a fortnight to discuss Ned holding a fugitive for nineteen years.

So many questions were thrown out and only few could be answered. The hardest question of all that could not be easily answered came from Bran: “What will happen to us?”

Ned pursed his lips, he looked over all of them carefully before answering truthfully, “I do not know, my son.”

Once they were given leave Robb started down the hall at a quick pace, heading right for Jon’s chambers. Sansa wasn’t going to go, but then the rest of her siblings headed that way, so she tagged along. She’d never been inside Jon’s chambers before, she only vaguely knew where they were located, in all actuality.

Jon answered his door slowly, eyes dark and slightly red while the rest of him looked smaller than his nineteen years of age should be. He looked at all of them slowly, lingering on each face before Robb all but engulfed him in a hug. Before she knew it Arya, Bran and Rickon joined Robb in hugging Jon and telling him that he was still their brother, that they would protect him.

Sansa wasn’t sure what to do, she wasn’t close enough to hug him like that and she wasn’t sure how well received she would be upon doing so. Instead she reached down to grab a hold of his hand, giving it a squeeze of reassurance. His eyes connected with hers and she gave a small smile. He didn’t return it back, but he gripped her hand to keep her from pulling back.

She hoped things would be okay, she would make sure to pray to the Seven that night because even though Jon wasn’t much her sibling in her mind, nor biologically, he was still family and she did care for him.

Unfortunately praying would do nothing for any of them…

King Robert came with his Queen wife, Cersei Lannister and their three children, Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen, including the Queen’s brothers, Jamie and Tyrion Lannister. Father and mother pulled out all the stops, trying their best to keep the royals from being displeased even though the visit was less than ideal.

Sansa felt her stomach gurgle in anxiety as they were approached by the large man. There was a stern glare on his face as he regarded father quietly then without so much as a greeting, he asked him: “Where’s the boy, Ned?”

“In his chambers,” Ned started clenching his hands into fists before going on, “we have much to discuss.”

“Of course we do, damn you, Ned,” Robert growled angrily then allowed Ned to lead him inside.

Mother tried her best to entertain Queen Cersei while the rest of them had to deal with their children. Sansa tried to not think about Jon possibly being executed as she interacted with Myrcella and Tommen. Robb immediately went to Joffrey, trying to get on some common ground with the heir to the throne, but he rebuffed him at every instance.

He was good looking, comely and golden, Sansa thought, but his attitude left much to be desired. It would be something she could over look if she still wasn’t anxious for Jon. It was funny how little she interacted with him, how much she avoided being around him only for her to now worry herself sick over him. To ignore the handsome golden prince for her northern dark cousin.

What irony…

It was at the feast that night to welcome the King and Queen to Winterfell that they found out the agreement that was struck between their father and the King.

King Robert stood up from the center table, garnering everyone’s attention as they all silenced. Sansa felt that anxiety come back with a vengeance, she had a bad feeling. She glanced over at Robb, his face scrunched into a frown as he waited for the announcement, waited for the decision that would affect Jon’s life forever. She looked over to Arya who had much the same expression on her face.

“Eddard Stark, Warden in the North, Lord of Winterfell has been harboring a fugitive,” King Robert declared heatedly, side eyeing Ned who kept a blank face. “The son of Rhaegar Targaryen and my former betroth, Lyanna Stark.” There was an echo of gasps rippling in the bannermen. Sansa bit the inside of her mouth as she awaited the dreaded announcement of Jon’s execution.

“By all accounts he should be executed on the spot, but,” Robert paused eyeing them all. “But, I have been delivered proof of an annulment of Rhaegar’s marriage to Elia Martell and…proof of marriage between him and Lyanna Stark.” The tension in the air swallowed them up, it was thick and all consuming. If Sansa wasn’t mistaken there was a glossy appearance in the King’s eyes, like he was holding back tears.

“Jon Snow is Jon Targaryen.” This time the bannermen jumped to their feet, shouting and yelling, all directed to Ned. Sansa felt warmth bloom inside her chest despite the angry atmosphere to see her father hold his head up high; showing no shame.

“I should have both him and Eddard Stark executed, but we have come to a decision otherwise,” King Robert continued, his voice booming louder than the bannermen and bringing another silence among them. “In one week, Jon Targaryen will be married to Sansa Stark and he will take the family name Stark.”

Sansa felt the air sucked from her lungs, she felt eyes gather upon her while she gazed up at her King then slowly drew her eyes to her father. They connected eyes, there was a sadness in his as he gazed down at her. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t put together any thoughts as her eyes started to water.

Marriage? To Jon?

Sansa thought she was going to throw up. She couldn’t understand how they all came to be, why would it be her? Wouldn’t it make more sense to marry him to Myrcella instead? A touch on her hand brought her back to see Arya standing beside her, her eyes wide in shock but staring at her in concern. She mumbled her name, but Sansa didn’t know what to say.

She looked back up to catch her mother’s eyes, she, too, looked sad, but that didn’t change anything, it changed nothing. She heard Robb say her name, felt a hand touch her shoulder before she whipped around, leaving the hall behind as her eyes blurred with unshed tears. She ran all the way to her chambers and barred herself within…

………

She refused to make a wedding dress, so her mother did it, along with making Jon a Stark cloak. Robb told her that the ceremony would be like a normal Northern marriage, just backwards. Instead of her receiving a cloak from him, Jon would receive it from her since he was taking her family name, essentially going under her protection. The thought of Jon reminded Sansa that she had yet to see him since she learned of her betrothal to him. though in hindsight it made sense considering she refused to leave her chambers since that night.

Arya snuck in that first night, picking the lock to her door to slip inside. Sansa could feel her tugging back her furs before situating herself in the bed beside her. They used to do that when they were younger than ten, cuddling together to keep the monsters away. A tear rolled down her cheek as she realized she’d be a woman soon; a wife.

“I don’t want to marry Jon,” Sansa croaked softly, her throat scratchy from all the crying she had done. She opened her swollen eyes to see Arya a mere inch from her, staring back into her eyes.

“I don’t think anyone wants that either, but it will save his life,” Arya commented quietly, reaching up a hand to push back strands of her red hair that was plastered to her clammy face. “Father said King Robert refused to have him wed to Myrcella, he’s the one who brought up you.”

“Why?” Sansa questioned as more tears flowed from her eyes. Arya shrugged.

“I think King Robert loved aunt Lyanna and seeing Jon everyday would be like how mother felt when she thought he was Father’s bastard,” Arya explained as she pulled her hand away. Her little sister was never like this with her, never so caring and sisterly.

Figures this display of affection would only show up now.

Sansa sighed deeply, a shudder running through her body. “What about how I feel?” Arya’s face scrunched up, her nose wrinkling as her eyes harden.

“What about Jon? Don’t you want him to live?” her words came out harshly as she spoke. Sansa felt a dull ache in her chest, of course she wanted him to live, but why did it have to be at her expense?

“Yes, I do! But to marry him?! Arya, we thought a fortnight ago he was our half-brother, how can I marry him, how can I be bedded by him?” Sansa inquired desperately, flipping over onto her back to stare up at the ceiling. Her sister seemed to be at a loss for words now as silence reign.

“Jon…he’d be good to you, he’d treat you like a princess. He already does, actually.” Sansa turned her head to her sister. Arya gave her a reassuring smile, reaching over to pull her hand free from the grip she had on the furs to tightly intertwine their fingers together. “At least you know him,” she added.

Her sister was right, Sansa thought, at least she knew him…

Still that didn’t mean she had to be altogether willing.

The first time she saw Jon was the day before they were to be wed. She was summoned to her father’s solar and she couldn’t refuse, not when it was her King that requested her. Sansa entered to find the King sitting by her father, the tension thick though that was probably because Jon was standing in front of them. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back as he stood up straight.

Sansa felt unease as she came to stand beside him though she left a good foot between them. Jon briefly glanced over at her before quickly directing his sight at their father-his uncle. She took in her mother sitting on the other side of her father as Queen Cersei sat beside King Robert though she looked as though she’d rather be anywhere else but here.

She had the same sentiments.

“You two are to be married tomorrow,” Ned said grimly, his face showing absolute dread as he glanced between the two of them. “Jon, you will be taking the Stark name and will be therefore called Jon Stark.” Sansa glanced at him to see that Jon didn’t look as happy to receive the family name he was always denied. Actually, he was reminiscent of how she felt currently, full of anxiety and trepidation.

“We have an issue,” Cersei Lannister declared abruptly, lips pressed into a smirk as she eyed them both. Sansa felt like a lamb being eyed by the lion.

“Yes, how are we sure that the marriage will be consummated?” King Robert questioned, gazing hard between them.

Consummated. That one word echoed inside her head, tumbled around her brain as she tried to image her and Jon in bed together, consummating their marriage. She felt green around the gills at the thought. A brief look at Jon said he was feeling much the same. It made the unease she felt earlier slowly recede, to know that Jon was in the same boat made things feel equal; on the same level.

“My daughter is a maid, all we have to do is see her marriage sheets in the morn,” Catelyn explained in a stern voice, eyes glaring daggers at Queen Cersei.

“Ah yes, the sheet test, you do realize it came be faked, do you not?” Cersei asked as she returned the look back at her mother. Her father’s jaw locked into place, Sansa could practically hear the grinding of his teeth. “To be unequivocally certain that the marriage is consummated we should allow a public bedding ceremony,” Cersei supplied with a clipped smile.

“Absolutely not!” Ned shouted as he stood to stare heatedly at his Queen.

Public bedding ceremony? Sansa had not ever heard of a thing. She assumed it was exactly as the wording stated, a bedding ceremony with an audience. She had to close her eyes and breathe slowly through her nose to keep the bile from rising up her throat.

“The sheet test should suffice,” Catelyn countered quickly, sounding desperate to Sansa’s ears. She silently prayed to the Seven that her parents wouldn’t let this happen to them, to her. She opened her eyes, hoping the tears wouldn’t spill.

“They’ve regarded each as brother and sister for fifteen-oh well, I guess it would be sixteen tomorrow,” Cersei amended with a devious smirk on her lips as she eyed Sansa over then continued, “Sixteen years they’ve considered each other siblings, do you really expect them to consummate a marriage with that mentality?”

“Robert,” Ned pleaded, turning to him and blocking Sansa’s view of the King.

“Cersei is right, Ned, though I loathe to agree with her, she is right. We will hold a public bedding ceremony!” King Robert asserted as he stood up, his eyes never leaving her father’s.

“No please!” Sansa couldn’t help but cry out, her mouth opening and letting words out before she could stop herself. “We will consummate it, please!” she begged as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Queen Cersei looked amused, chin dropping into her hand as she observed her. King Robert frowned, but he did not look swayed.

“Please, King Robert, Lord Stark, I swear on my honor that we will consummate our marriage,” Jon said softly. Sansa turned to him to see determination on his face, his dark grey eyes burning in heat as he stared down their King.

“You have no honor, Targaryen,” King Robert spat in rage, face consumed by anger. “I will not have my decision swayed, public bedding ceremony, tomorrow after the marriage feast!”

Sansa choked as she gasped for air. Her mother came up to her quickly, eloping her in a hug as more tears released from her eyes. She was quickly escorted from her father’s solar without a backwards glance.

The rest of that day passed in a blur of tears. Sansa didn’t know what was worse, being wed to a man she once known as brother on her name day, or having her maidenhead taken by a man she once known as brother in front of an audience. She tried arguing it with her mother more, but there was nothing they could do.

Robb practically broke into her chambers that night, embracing her tightly to him as she couldn’t help but cry more. He soothed her gently, whispering encouraging words and rocking her. Vaguely, in the back of her mind, she wondered how Jon was holding up. Arya’s words came back to haunt her.

If she was handling the news this badly then how was Jon handling it? Once she settled down, curled up in her big brother’s arms she asked: “How’s Jon handling this?”

Robb paused mid-rock before continuing again as though he hadn’t halted at her question. “He’s…handling it as best as can be, less tears,” he mumbled jokingly, his hand stroking her back lovingly.

“So, he’s tearing a straw dummy apart then?” Sansa smiled lightly as her mind conjured up the image of Jon attacking a dummy with a blunted sword to work out his anger. Jon so rarely cried, or at least she had never witnessed him crying before. He was always a doer when it came to expressing his emotions.

“Aye, he’s destroying so many that Ser Rodrik is having a fit over it,” Robb stated with a chuckle, gaining a small giggle from her in answer. “It’s not the best situation, but it’s the best out of a bad situation, wouldn’t you say?”

“I guess…” Sansa wasn’t so sure, it was easy for everyone to say that because it wasn’t them that this was happening to.

“Do you really have to guess, Sansa?” Robb questioned gently, turning her face upwards to peer into her eyes.

“No, I don’t really have to guess. I know, it saves his life.” He nodded then closed his arms around her tightly, bringing her head over his shoulder to return it.

“Things will be alright in the end, you will see.” Sansa sighed. She really hoped so.

She really, really hoped so…

The marriage ceremony in the godswood moved along quickly. Her father walked her down to Jon who was wearing a plain old black cloak without the Targaryen sigil on it. She supposed it was best to disregard his heritage since it wouldn’t matter too much longer.

Her mother made her a beautiful wedding gown, light grey with intricate designs of flowers down the skirt of the dress, joined along a spidering vine that linked them together. The sleeves were made of the same light, sheer fabric that reached down to the same length of her skirt with a slit right midway down her forearm. Upon her bodice was all beaded with designs of a direwolf on the front, across her chest while Tully fishes were on the back.

Her hair was pulled back from her face, half of it brought up with twin braids wrapping around each other at the back of her head while the rest of her hair was thoroughly brushed through to shine down her back.

The cloak her mother made for her to put around Jon’s shoulders was heavy upon her own. It was dark grey, a direwolf similar to the one across her chest, was stitched on it only larger. Jon was wearing all black, his signature look. His face was clean shaven making him look much younger than nine and ten, his hair was recently cut as well though it curled up around his face.

Sansa gripped her father’s arm tightly during the whole ceremony ‘til she was handed off to Jon. His hands were larger than hers, they practically engulfed her slim hands as they clasped them together. Her heart was beating a mile-a-minute as she gazed into Jon’s eyes. He must have seen the fear in her eyes for he squeezed her hands lightly as though to reassure her.

He must be feeling fear too, yet he feels the need to assure me, Sansa thought as her lips parted to speak her words of accepting his protection and to give him the same through her name. Jon released her hands, so she could unclip the cloak around her shoulders. He bent down slightly to help bring the cloak around his shoulders.

They were of similar height, but her arms weren’t very long. Her hands shook as she worked the clip beneath his throat.

Now they were to kiss.

Sansa couldn’t control the shaking in her hands, the tremors quaked down her arms as Jon neared her. Her hands closed around his black tunic as his came up to close around them, keeping her locked to him and steady. She closed her eyes as he neared, waiting for the inevitable.

The soft press of his lips against hers was shocking. She had never been kissed before now, so it was strange to feel how soft and plush his lips felt as they pressed her own. His nose brushed along hers as Jon made a soft push of his lips then he was gone, pulling away from her. Sansa opened her eyes to see the gentle expression on his face before his brooding blank stare took over.

They were married.

Sansa didn’t much feel married, she didn’t feel changed, nor did she feel excitement bubbling in her veins. Then again, she was married to a man who had been her brother for all her life, she supposed that excitement was going to be excluded. She feared for the end of the feast the whole time, knowing soon enough they’d depart to a new chambers to consummate the marriage.

A consummation with an audience viewing in.

If Sansa were honest with herself, allowing Jon to bed her wasn’t what scared her the most. Really, she would have let it happen even if it sicken her because it was her duty, they needed to for the marriage to be true and to keep Jon’s life safe. What scared her was people witnessing the moment her maidenhead was taken, it was personal, it was intimate and a group of their bannermen, including King Robert and her father were going to be there.

Just thinking about it was causing her to hyperventilate. A hand came over top of hers on the table. Sansa looked up to see Jon watching her, concern gleaming in his eyes. The hall was so loud it was hard to hear a word from anyone, so he leaned close to her, his lips grazing her ear as he spoke: “It’ll be alright, Sansa, just breathe. We will make it through.”

She pulled back to connect eyes with him once more. They were so close that the tips of their noses brushed. Her heart skipped a beat when she witnessed his eyes dropping to her lips before he was hauling himself back from her, eyes going back to inspect the hall around them. Sansa was sure she didn’t imagine that.

Her lips tingled at remembering how his felt in their kiss. It took everything in her to not touch her lips as she pressed them together to get rid of the sensation.

Arya made sure to be the one to deliver her a lemon cake, setting the little cake in front of her as gently as she could. Sansa gave her a grateful smile while her sister gave her an encouraging one. She placed two in front of Jon and he nodded back, no smile on his lips though. It took everything in her to push aside the lingering thoughts of the bedding ceremony to enjoy the lemon cake.

She was famished, having not ate for most of yesterday and during most of that day. She practically inhaled the lemon cake like it was air, she barely tasted it, much-less enjoyed it. Disappointment erupted inside her chest as she gazed at her empty plate longingly.

Suddenly a plate clacked against hers then a lemon cake was being pushed onto her empty plate. Sansa whipped her head up to Jon to see a hard-pressed smile on his lips.

“Lemon cakes were always your favorite,” Jon said in way of explanation. Another tingle ran through her lips as she glanced at his full ones.

She smothered the feeling by taking a bite of lemon cake, this time eating slower to thoroughly enjoy it.

Possibly the only thing she’d be enjoying for the rest of that night…

Sansa’s only saving grace was that her mother and father were able to disallow the normal bedding ceremony, especially since many of them were going to witness the both naked as their name days (cruel irony that it was her name day). She was happy because the gown her mother made was just too beautiful to allow anyone to tear apart.

The walk to their new chambers was a long one. Jon had given her hand a squeeze beneath the table before they left. She caught the sights of Robb, Arya, and Bran as they left, each one watching them as though they were going to be hanged rather than consummate a marriage. Little Rickon was already put to bed for the night.

Things would be alright, Sansa reiterated in her mind as they walked. Jon would try to make this as painless as possible, she knew she wasn’t the only one feeling anxious about the whole ordeal. Though she hated this for herself and Jon, she hated it even more for her father. He was going to sit there and watch as she was deflowered before his very eyes, Sansa figured that was punishment enough in of itself.

Jon opened the door to their new chambers, neither of them have been in there yet. The room was much bigger than her own and his, the bed impossibly large along with a changing screen, vanity for her and two large dressers for their clothes. They had a small open solar with a couch seated in front of the fire and a writing desk on the opposite side with a large window overlooking outside the castle.

That was a nice feature, she thought. Her window only looked into Winterfell’s courtyard, not outside to the wolfswoods and Kingsroad. Upon further inspection she found a large copper tub behind the changing screen, a smile came to her lips. There were Tully fishes etched into the rim around the large tub, a gift from her mother whom brought it back with her from Riverrun when she married her father.

“Let us get this over with,” King Robert called out, taking a seat in front of the large bed.

Sansa felt sick at the fact that he’d be able to see when Jon put his…himself inside her. There would be no disputing consummation after that. She glanced at her father, seeing him look sick as he took a seat as far back as he could. Their bannermen entered quickly, taking seats that were placed around the front of the bed for their comfort.

What about their comfort? She looked back to Jon, his face still set in a frown though his nose was scrunched in disgust.

“Get on with it,” Robert crowed, taking a large gulp of wine as he reclined back in his seat as though he were about to witness a tourney instead.

Sansa moved towards the changing screen intending to not allow these men and her father to see her nude at all, if she could help it. To save both her and her father some dignity. Sansa frowned as she tried reaching for the buttons on the back of her gown, normally she would do this herself, but her corset was rather tight making it harder to reach.

Finally, after a minute of struggle she called out to Jon: “Jon, could you h-help me?” She couldn’t help the stutter, she was so nervous.

Jon appeared around the screen in nothing but his breeches, shocking her into silence. Sansa had never seen a man without their tunic before, a boy sure, but not a man. His shoulders were broad with hard muscle spanning shoulder to shoulder. His chest had sparse hairs on them, even more beneath his belly button leading into his breeches. His body was nothing but hard muscle from years of swordsmanship, working his body ‘til it was tough as steel.

Sansa spun around to show her back to him, pulling her long hair over her shoulder. She hoped he didn’t notice the flush that appeared on her skin at the sight of him. Jon said nothing though as he started working the buttons down her back. She felt him step back once finished, about ready to bolt when she quickly added, “I need help with my corset too.”

“Alright,” Jon answered gruffly as she dropped the top of her gown down her chest and arms. It took Jon a moment to figure out how to undue the laces, but once he got it they were undone quickly.

She allowed the confining device to drop from her body to the ground freeing her rapidly moving bosom. She shivered when Jon’s fingers trailed down her back, following the bumps of her spine lightly like he was entranced by her. The thought brought a blush to her cheeks and another tingle sensation, only this time following the pads of his fingers down her back.

“Can we get started?! Your King, demands it!” Robert bellowed beyond the screen, ruining whatever moment was developing between them. Sansa turned around thoughtlessly at the yell.

Jon’s eyes dropped to her breasts widely then he turned around as quickly as possible. Sansa immediately closed her arms around her chest, a brighter blush going down her neck came upon her. She wanted to change into a proper shift, but she had none near her and her dresser was near the men. Another cruel irony that her mother thought tying the shift into her gown would be best fitting wise.

She glanced down at her light blue smallclothes, little snowflakes stitched in them to her topless chest. Sansa swallowed hard then pulled her head up high, she was a Stark. She could be brave, just like Robb would be, like her father expected her to be.

She walked out from beyond the screen to find Jon standing by the bed, now in his smallclothes. Sansa tried not to look, but she couldn’t help her eyes zeroing in on the large bulge trying to protrude from his smallclothes and body. She tried to ignore the sounds of disappointment as she kept her breasts covered with her arms.

King Robert disapproved heavily and vocally, “Here now, we’re here to witness a consummation of marriage, that means being completely nude for each other and the audience.” Sansa dug her nails into her arms.

“Robert, please,” Ned begged from the back. King Robert disregarded him with a wave of his hand.

“Come now sweetling, drop your arms,” he coaxed her like she was a small animal approaching him.

You can be brave, Sansa whispered inside her mind as she slowly dropped her arms to reveal her small bosom to the bannermen and King. She hoped her father wasn’t shamed by the display, she hoped he didn’t have to see her like this.

“Now the smallclothes,” King Robert continued, a brandy smile on his face as he took another gulp of wine, his eyes steadfast on her breasts.

Sansa bit the inside of her cheek as she slowly untied her smallclothes. Her stomach grumbled with uneasy nerves, but the rest of her harden to the audience, they wanted a show then she would give them one. Her smallclothes dropped down her legs to reveal herself to them all. King Robert eyed her over generously.

“Hair on her pussy matches her head, teats a good handful and tipped the same color as her lips. Damn you, Ned, she’s as beautiful as Lyanna had been,” Robert commented with a tinge of sadness on the edge of his voice. Sansa wondered if he had ever seen aunt Lyanna nude to give such a comparison.

She highly doubted it.

Quickly, now that she was sure the audience had gotten their fill of her, she crawled onto the bed. She wanted nothing more than to get underneath the furs, but that would defeat the purpose of the public bedding. Jon’s face was entirely covered in a flush as he slowly worked his own smallclothes off.

Sansa felt her throat go dry as Jon revealed himself. She’d seen a cock before, but only on her little brothers when she helped bathe them when they were much younger. She had never seen a grown man’s cock. It was most definitely thicker and longer than a boy’s. Sansa wasn’t sure she’d be able to get her hand around him, much-less have him fit inside her.

Fear and apprehension erupted inside her chest as Jon followed her on the bed. Jon slowly maneuvered her legs to allow him in between them, his cock lightly skimming the skin of her thigh. She involuntarily whimpered at the touch, another shock of tingles ran through her nerves.

“It’ll be alright, Sansa, I promise you. It will be alright,” Jon mumbled his assurances as he leaned over her, his hands landing on either side of her head. “I know this is the last thing you want, but if…if you aren’t prepared it’ll hurt.”

“Prepared?” Sansa asked quietly, trying to keep the conversation between them. Luckily Jon seemingly blocked out her view of the audience perfectly.

“Yes,” Jon gulped. “I need you…you wet down there, otherwise it’ll hurt more.”

Sansa blinked once as understanding came upon her. She knew it was naughty of her, knew Septa Mordane would have a stroke if she ever knew, but Sansa had touched herself a few times before. She knew exactly what he meant about her being wet. Touching the nub above the entrance to her cunt brought her immense pleasure.

On nights when she was extremely frustrated she’d hide beneath her furs in her bed and rub at the nub with her finger tips in circles to build up the bubbling pleasure in her abdomen before a release would come and she’d feel much better afterwards. Though she did notice the wetness left behind she hadn’t a clue why her body reacted that way.

Jeyne Poole had said it was her woman’s juices though she couldn’t tell her what the juices was meant for. Sansa now knew it was for this act alone.

“I don’t know if I can enjoy touching myself with them…” Sansa trailed off as she watched shock widen his eyes as another blush came to his cheeks.

Watching his Adam’s apple bob was interesting to her, did he like that? Like the idea that she knew how to touch herself? There was mild disgust inside her mind, but her chest blossomed in warmth and a strange throb echoed between her legs.

“If…if you don’t like what I-I do then tell me,” Jon managed to say with great difficulty from the looks of it. Sansa only nodded.

Slowly Jon lowered himself, his face coming closer and closer to her. Then lightly he pressed a chaste kiss on her forehead, moving down to kiss the tip of her nose before his lips pressed against hers. It was reminiscent of their marriage kiss, light pressure that left tingles sparking through the nerves in her lips.

Felt that strange urge as his lips settled on hers, the strange urge to truly kiss him back.

Sansa pushed her lips forward, moving them against his. Jon shuddered above her then suddenly he was kissing her like a knight from the songs. Moving his lips against hers like it was a dance between them. She blocked the thoughts of who Jon had been to her, instead she tried to focus on the sensations running through her body as they kissed.

The touch of a tongue made her gasp. Jon pulled back from her, but Sansa didn’t want the kiss to end, she reached up to wrap her hands around his neck to bring him back to her. She was no longer concerned about her modesty with him, they were about to get much more intimate than either ever thought possible anyway.

She opened her mouth to him, so she could trace the tip of her tongue along his lips as he had done to her. His mouth opened to her where his tongue came to greet her tongue, touching in tantalizing brushes that made her core throb even more. Her thighs pressed together to feel the wetness that usually formed from touching her nub leaking between her lower lips. His tongue in her mouth was even better, they warred against each other as they kissed.

The only kind of war Sansa ever wanted to participate in.

Feeling a hand touch the edge of her breast pulled her back from the kiss to see Jon’s hand skimming along the side of her body. The zing of pleasure from just the brief, possibly accidental touch made her bold, made her reach out and place that hand upon her left breast. The center of his arm was callused like his fingertips and it scratched the tip of her nipple teasingly, drawling a moan from her lips.

Sansa blushed tomato red at the noise she made though Jon was quick to make her forget as he kissed her again. His hand started massaging her breast gently though it still scratched at her nipple, bringing forth more pleasure for her.

Her moans got louder when his lips descended upon her throat, nipping along the column of her neck. Sansa reached up to run her fingers through his hair as he moved down. She nearly forgot they had people watching them ‘til she heard a loud cough that caused her to freeze. Jon paused as well, clearly, he had forgotten too.

He looked up at her, locking gazes as unease appeared in his eyes. Sansa bit her lip then started shaking her head. She gripped his hair tightly in her hand to drag him back down to what he was doing. She dragged him further down than she meant to, or maybe he had always been intending to go that route, either way she cried out when his lips closed around the nipple of her right breast.

Encompassing heat and wetness surrounded her nipple as he suckled at it like a babe. The sensation was lovely, something she didn’t think would be nice considering they were normally used to produce milk for babes, not for pleasure. Then again, she knew little of the body’s pleasures ‘til now. His mouth opened wider, taking in more of her breast and causing another cry from her mouth.

“Make her scream boy!” King Robert called out in amusement. Sansa only scratched her nails on his scalp as Jon continued to mouth and suck her breast.

It was strange how…natural it seemed to be here with him, it’d be even better without the audience, but Sansa didn’t think she’d feel anything as good as she does with Jon. She couldn’t be sure why that was though, maybe she was sinful for feeling this way when he had been her brother a moon ago, maybe she was doomed from the start.

Sansa gave little care as she arched into his mouth, feeling his cock brush along the seam between her thigh and hip. She keened upon feeling his teeth close around her nipple, tugging it before he released her breast from his mouth, leaving behind a wet residue as her nipple puckered to attention.

“I’m going to check you,” Jon told her as his hand left her other breast to trail down her stomach towards her cunt. They both watched as he combed through the red hair on her mound, stopping on press through her folds and feel the wetness that greeted him.

He smiled reassuringly as he touched her. Sansa lowly moaned, reaching down to clasp around his wrist. She needed him to touch her nub, it was positively throbbing for attention; his attention. Jon glanced between her and the way she directed his hand, moving hers down over his hand, aligning her fingers over top his to show him where she wanted his fingers.

She almost forgot that Jon was just as much a maid as she was, only knowing what he did because of men like Theon who boasted about his conquests. She ripped that information out of Robb that night he comforted her, she wanted to make sure she and Jon were on the same level. Robb confirmed for her that they were.

The touch of his rough fingertip made her shake in pleasure, mumbling, “right there, Jon, right there.” He took to it fast, pressing his fingers against her nub before she showed him how to rub it the way she liked.

Before long Sansa couldn’t keep her mouth shut as Jon worked her nub with rough circles, harsher than she could produce herself. It felt so much better with his touch over her own. She could hear mumbling from beyond the bed, she didn’t know what was being said but she hoped she was making them uncomfortable.

It would be their victory if they made the bannermen uncomfortable as they witnessed them finding pleasure with each other. Vaguely, she wondered if King Robert was hoping things would end horribly, that Jon would just stick his cock into her without making sure she was ready. If he did then he was sorely mistaken.

Jon changed his movements, using his thumb to press and circle her nub as his long middle finger started to trace up and down the slit to her entrance. Slowly, he dipped his finger into her cunt, bringing it back out before pushing back in. He started a pattern, in and out, in and out, slowly feeding his finger into her.

Sansa dragged Jon back to her to suck on his neck, to leave a mark that surely, he left on hers as she rocked her hips into his hand. Jon leaned down into her, allowing her to feast upon his throat as he mumbled words into her ear.

He told her she was beautiful, so achingly beautiful. He told her she deserved better than him, but that he would do his best to be deserving of her; regardless. He told her of his dreams for them after this, to have a holdfast of their own. He told her of his dreams for children, that he hoped she felt the same.

Then as she neared her peak, her hips rocking into his hand continuously as he buried two fingers into her cunt and his thumb rubbed her nub into submission, he told her that he hoped she’d come to love him as a wife would her husband, as he hoped to come to love her too.

Sansa clutched Jon’s back as she peaked, moaning her pleasure as loudly as she could. In the haze of her peak Jon removed his hand and directed the head of his cock to her entrance to feed into her like his finger. Sansa felt the pressure but none of the excruciating pain she had feared before. It was a tight fit, a tiny pinch happened as he bottomed out inside her, but that was the most pain she felt.

Jon gazed down at her, making sure to connect eyes with her before he started to move his hips. The sensation was much more different than his fingers had been. His cock reached further and touched her inner walls more intimately, dragging soothingly against her as he pulled out and pushed back in.

The groans coming from his chest amused her, made her moan in response as he thrusted into her. Jon’s face was expressing his concentration as he moved though there was pleasure in eyes as he continued to thrust. Sansa dragged him back to her, kissing his lips before bringing his ear to her lips where she could tell him a few things.

She told him how handsome he truly was, his dark hair and eyes were more entrancing than any golden prince or knight from her favored songs. She told him how he didn’t deserve her, he was truly a prince while she was a high lord’s daughter though she would do her best to be deserving of him; regardless. She told him of her dreams, of holding a household and taking care of her husband. She told him she wanted children, as many as they could have. Jon stuttered mid-thrust at her confession, groaning into her shoulder before his thrusts came out harder, rougher.

Sansa rocked her hips to meet his, feeling his pelvic bone press against her nub each time, sending sparks of pleasure through her. She finally told him that she cared for him, truly and that she hoped one day they’d have a love like her parents, that they could love each other like a husband and wife should.

“I want it all, Jon,” Sansa declared in his ear as he grunted.

His hips piston into hers then he moaned loudly, freezing as he found his pleasure and his seed shot from his cock into her cunt. Sansa groaned at the warm feeling in her abdomen, her hand moved to touch her belly as she thought of what could happen after this.

Her mother had mentioned a long time ago that it can sometimes take only once to get with child. It had for her with Robb.

Surprisingly, Sansa hoped she did get with child.

She brought her other hand up to cup the side of Jon’s face as he pulled back to gaze at her. They both smiled brightly at each other. Then loud clapping echoed around the room, ruining the moment once more. Jon’s face dropped into a frown as hers flinched at the noise.

“Bravo, bravo, quite the show! I’d say it was quite consummated,” King Robert commented in a morbid joy that no one else seemed to feel.

“Then let us leave them,” Ned growled heatedly. Sansa almost forgot her father had been in the room. Embarrassment came over her as she remembered how loud she was.

“Alright, alright,” Robert mumbled back and slowly the men exited the room.

Jon did not move a muscle as he soften inside her, they both waited ‘til they were alone before he moved from her. The sensation of him leaving her made her feel quite empty, like she was missing something vital to her; like she was incomplete. Jon flipped onto his back beside her, gazing up at ceiling as silence lingered between them.

Sansa couldn’t help but drag her fingers down from her abdomen to touch her sore folds, feeling the mix of juices and seed down there. Mindlessly she pushed it back in her, she really wanted to be with child now, the want becoming the biggest thing in her mind. Jon watched her, his eyes taking in the movement of her hand like he was in a trance.

“You were right,” Sansa said softly, flattening her hand against her entrance in hopes of keeping his seed inside her.

“Was I?” Jon inquired, drawing his eyes slowly back up to gaze hazily into her eyes.

Sansa nodded. “You said it’d be alright, that we would make it and you were right.”

“Maybe you should listen to me more often then,” Jon jokingly stated, rugged smile coming to his lips as the atmosphere between the settled into a warm, soothing air.

“Well, you are my husband now…” she mumbled with a shrug as her eyes down-casted. His hand quickly touched the side of her face, bringing back her attention to him.

“Sansa, we’re a unit. You and I are equal grounding, alright.” She bit the inside of her cheek then nodded.

“Okay…so if we’re on equal grounding,” she started, pushing his hand away as she boldly straddled his hips. The smile disappeared into an open ‘o’ as his hands clamped onto her hips. “Then I’d like us to consummate our marriage again, I want a child, Jon.”

His eyes grew darker in pleasure, his thumbs started to rub up and down on her hip bones as he took her in. “Aye, my Lady, as you wish…”

…..

 

**Author's Note:**

> The dress for Sansa's wedding:
> 
> https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1ICpBSVXXXXcrXpXXq6xXFXXXW/Gorgeous-Bling-Light-Grey-Wedding-Dress-Ball-GownTulle-Beading-Handmade-Flowers-Bridal-Dress-Bridal-Gown-Vestidos.jpg_640x640.jpg
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed and please let the know whatcha think! ^_~


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